


"The Angel Stream II: The Angel"

by Gaedhal



Series: "The Angel Stream" [2]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-09 21:23:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10422048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaedhal/pseuds/Gaedhal
Summary: It's Christmas: Brian and Justin connect.





	1. Chapter 1

Pittsburgh, Christmas Day 2004

 

“What’s that sound?” groaned Justin.

At first Justin thought it was his heart pounding, but the noise was too loud and too metallic.

“Christ!” breathed Brian, lifting his head. “It’s someone at the fucking door. Ignore it and they’ll go away.”

Justin clutched one of Brian’s big pillows with both hands. “I don’t care what it is! Only don’t stop! Please!”

Brian grinned. “I wasn’t planning to.” 

And he plunged his tongue back into Justin’s ample ass with satisfied glee.

 

***

 

Michael had been worried before, but now he was alarmed.

He had been trying to get Brian on the phone all morning, trying both his cell and the loft phone. And now Brian wasn’t coming to the door.

Brian was definitely home. Michael had checked to make certain that the Corvette was parked in its space in the garage. After he couldn’t get through to Brian, Michael had called Emmett, who told him that Brian left Babylon early, alone, and in a hurry after a confrontation with some asshole on the dance floor.

Michael knocked harder and more frantically on the metal door.

It had only been a few years before that Michael had barged into the loft and found Brian dangling from one of the rafters, his hand on his hard dick. Michael had been terrified. What if he had arrived 10 minutes later? Brian might well have been stone dead by then! Scarfing wasn’t exactly safe sex!

Brian had passed it off, claiming that a try at scarfing was his thirtieth birthday present to himself, but Michael didn’t believe that for a moment. He knew that Brian had been depressed for a long time. His father’s death from cancer, being turned down for a job at a prestigious advertising firm in New York, and leaving his twenties behind all came one right after the other, like triple knockout punches to Brian’s fragile ego.

After that, Brian seemed to snap out of his gloom for a long time, but Michael still worried that despair was always lurking underneath Brian’s smooth and icy surface. Then Brian was diagnosed with cancer and Michael knew that Brian was only hanging on by the skin of his teeth. Brian had almost gone over that edge on his last birthday – his 33rd – but that crisis had passed. 

Now Brian was cancer-free and seemed to have recovered from the side-effects of radiation, but he wasn’t the same old Brian. More and more, he had been avoiding his friends. Many nights when he ordinarily would have been at Woody’s or Babylon looking for his next trick, Brian was drinking alone in his loft. Drinking and brooding over some dark thought or notion. Michael fretted about what Brian was brooding over. And what he might be thinking of doing.

Michael stopped banging on the door and listened. He didn’t hear anything. 

It was well after noon and Michael’s mother, Debbie, was having her annual Christmas Day dinner for all of her ‘Lost Boys,’ as Michael’s stepfather, Carl, called the motley collection of gay men his wife had virtually adopted. Brian was expected to be there – no excuses.

Michael took out his cell and called Brian’s number one more time. It went to voicemail. That’s when Michael took out his key to the loft and unlocked the door. 

Brian had taken Michael’s key away a number of times before because he was sick of Michael snooping and butting into his life. The last time had been during Brian’s radiation treatments when he had been so ill that he could barely stand. Brian didn’t want anyone, not even his oldest friend, to see him so debilitated. But Brian had to give the key back to Michael a few days later because he could no longer cope with his illness alone. That had been a devastating admission for Brian to make, but it had been a necessary one.

Michael had promised Brian that he would only use the key for extreme emergencies – and not for anything else.

And this was an emergency. Michael was certain of it.

He slid open the heavy loft door and walked inside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael to the rescue.
> 
> Or not.

Pittsburgh, Christmas Day 2004

 

“Don’t come yet,” Brian ordered. “Don’t come until I put my dick inside you.”

“I’ll try,” Justin gasped, attempting to hold back. 

Justin’s head was spinning with sensation. He and Brian had fucked for most of the night until they both fell into an exhausted sleep. Then Justin had been awakened around noon by a mouth on his cock. It was an unbelievable feeling! Brian seemed to have an insatiable desire to possess every inch of Justin’s untouched body. And that was exactly what Justin wanted.

Rimming. Justin had never heard the term before. But he knew what it was now! Knew it and couldn’t get enough of it.

Brian eased first one finger and then two into Justin’s sensitive hole. The stubble from Brian’s growing beard, like fine sandpaper, had rubbed Justin’s skin raw. But Justin didn’t complain. It was pleasure and pain mixed together. And he didn’t want Brian to stop! He didn’t want him ever to stop.

Justin heard Brian rip open the foil on another condom. They must have gone through a half-dozen since Brian guided Justin into the loft and immediately stripped off his clothes and began the marvelous process of relieving Justin of his virginity.

They had started making out on the sofa, then quickly moved to the bedroom, with the huge platform bed that seemed as big as a boat. That’s where Justin learned what rimming was. And he learned more. A lot more.

Brian eased himself inside Justin slowly. Shit! He was tight. And sweet. Brian couldn’t seem to stop fucking this kid. No, not ‘this kid.’ Justin. That was his name. And Brian kept saying it over and over as he thrust his yearning cock into him. 

“Justin, Justin, Justin!”

“Oh, Brian!” Justin squealed. “Oh, fuck!”

Justin opened his eyes and saw....

A man standing there, staring at them. A short, black-haired man with dark eyes. He was frowning. No, he was scowling at Justin. He was watching them. Watching Brian fucking him!

“Brian!” said Justin, turning his head.

“Don’t come yet!” Brian insisted. “I want us to come together this time.” 

Brian thrust forward deeply and reached his hand around, jerking Justin’s dick until they both shot – Justin all over Brian’s dark blue percale sheets and Brian deep inside Justin.

“Oh, my God!” Justin panted as Brian fell on top of him.

“That was the best one yet,” Brian sighed. And then he kissed Justin. And kept kissing him. Brian planned to kiss him until they both were hard again.

“Brian,” said Justin, hating to interrupt the moment. “There’s someone here.”

Brian paused. “What the fuck?”

Justin looked over at the doorway of the bedroom. “There’s a guy watching us.”

Brian whipped his head around.

“Jesus, Michael!” he said. “Why don’t you bring a camera next time? Then you can post the pictures on the internet along with your fucking comic books!”

To Justin’s amazement, Brian didn’t seem angry, only annoyed. But the short man – Michael – was furious.

“Fuck you, Brian!” Michael spat. “I was worried about you! I’ve been calling all morning and you didn’t answer, so I came over here to make sure you were all right. And I walk in and find you ramming some underage trick! On Christmas Day! That’s real classy, Kinney!”

“Who I fuck and what I do on Christmas Day is my own fucking business, Mikey,” said Brian, reaching for a joint that he had rolled the night before. He lit it calmly and then offered it to Justin. Justin nodded and Brian slipped it between Justin’s plush lips.

“Emmett said that you left Babylon last night by yourself,” said Michael. “So where did you pick up the little trick? At the baths? Or at the Mall, waiting in line to see Santa Claus?”

Justin pulled the blue sheet up to his neck. The angry man had already seen him naked, but Justin wanted to shield himself anyway. Something about the way this Michael looked at him and Brian made Justin feel exposed and vulnerable.

“A trick?” Justin asked, handing the joint back to Brian after he’d taken a strong toke. “What’s that? A pick-up?”

“It’s what you are,” Michael replied. “A one-time fuck. So if you’d get out of here and let Brian get dressed, he can come with me to Ma’s house for Christmas dinner!”

Justin snuggled closer to Brian. He wasn’t ready to leave – not yet! He couldn’t leave! Justin wanted to get up and make breakfast for his lover. Pancakes. Or a Spanish omelet. Justin was a pretty decent cook. Breakfast was easy. Justin wondered Brian had any Grand Marnier to make a sauce for waffles. That was really good!

“Is this your brother, Brian?” Justin asked. “Are you supposed to be at your mother’s house?”

Brian played the joint around in his mouth, thinking. “Michael isn’t my brother, but he thinks he’s my keeper. That’s why he’s over here. To make sure I’m a good boy. Well, I’ve been good. Very, very good. Ask Justin how good I’ve been,” Brian laughed. And Justin laughed, too. Maybe it was the dope they were smoking, but the whole thing seemed so crazy!

“Since when do you know a trick’s name, Brian?” Michael asked, narrowing his eyes at the kid suspiciously. “Who is this guy? Where did he come from?”

“His name is Justin.” Brian blew out a puff of the sweet-smelling smoke. “And Justin isn’t a trick, Michael.”

Brian had his arm around Justin’s shoulder as they reclined on the pillows. Usually he was in such a fucking hurry to get the trick out of his bed and out of his loft that there was no time to lie there and enjoy the feeling. What the fuck did they call it? The afterglow. That’s what it felt like. Like he was glowing. And Justin was definitely glowing, like he was lit up from inside. Brian felt himself getting hard again. Wanting Justin again. It was ridiculous! But it was true.

Justin leaned his head on Brian’s shoulder and closed his eyes. His mother was probably wondering where he was, if she hadn’t already called the police. So what? He was 22 years old! He was a man! Really a man now. There was no doubt about that. A man in bed with his lover.

Michael stared at Brian and the kid in dismay. What the hell was going on? This wasn’t like Brian at all! What had this kid done to Brian? What drugs had he given Brian to put him in this mood? Maybe some new kind of ‘E’ – or even something stronger. Something dangerous.

“If he’s not a trick, then what the fuck is he, Brian?” Michael was almost shouting in frustration. 

“I don’t know what to call him, Michael,” Brian answered. “But he’s mine. That’s all I know right now. And all I need to know.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions.

Pittsburgh, Christmas Day 2004

 

“No, Mom,” said Justin, rubbing his aching head. “I’m telling you for the last time – I’m not going to be home for dinner! No, I’m NOT at Daphne’s. I have friends other than Daphne, you know!”

Brian shook his head as he listened to Justin’s end of the conversation. Mothers! Jesus Christ! At least he wasn’t expected to call his. He’d had flowers sent over to her house yesterday. Some tasteful arrangement that she undoubtedly wouldn’t appreciate. That was his way of fulfilling his holiday obligation to the Kinney family.

Fulfilling his obligation to his adopted family would be much harder.

“Listen, Mom, I’ll call you tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow!” Justin pulled the phone away from his ear while his mother yelled. “I’m staying at my friend’s place again tonight. No, I don’t give a shit about opening my presents! Can we talk about this another time? I’m hanging up now, Mom. Yes, NOW!” And Justin hung up.

Brian burst into laughter. “That was easy.”

“Fuck! I can’t believe my mother!” said Justin. “You would think that I’d called her from jail or something.”

“She probably would have preferred that,” said Brian, sipping his large mug of coffee. “Better in the Drunk Tank than in bed with a big, bad faggot.” Brian watched Justin’s face change. Watched it darken. “Does she know? About you?”

Justin nodded slowly. “I told her last night right before I stormed out of the house. She probably thinks that I have a secret boyfriend and that I’m hiding out in his den of sin.”

Brian swallowed his coffee. “Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

Justin moved against Brian and held him tightly. “I don’t know! I’m pretty new at this.”

Brian set his coffee cup down on the counter. “So am I. As new as you are.”

He kissed Justin’s tangled blond hair and smelled his own shampoo in it. They were both still wet from the shower. 

It had taken Brian a while to get rid of Michael. Finally, Brian had to promise to be at Deb’s house in time for dinner at 6:00. “And don’t be late, asshole!” Michael had commanded before he left the loft. “Ma is expecting you, so don’t disappoint her!”

That’s what I’m best at doing, Brian thought. Disappointing people. My friends. My family. My boss and clients. Everyone – except....

Justin. He didn’t seem disappointed in him. And Brian had been surprised that he wasn’t disappointed in himself, either. Brian marveled at the strength and confidence he had felt while he and Justin were fucking.

No. While they were making love. That was the difference. That was what it was. Making love. He finally understood that stupid euphemism. Or he had come to understand it again after a very, very long time. He hadn’t wanted to make love to anyone before. He hadn’t wanted anyone to get close to him, except for a few friends like Michael and Lindsay. Friendship was complicated enough, let alone love!

But fucking was simple. Fucking was about body parts. Take dick and insert into hole. Simple.

But love... that was about a thing that Brian had almost forgotten he possessed. A heart. And that was a complex, untrustworthy organ. Even more complex and untrustworthy than his cock.

“I can wait here while you go over to see your friends, Brian,” said Justin. “Unless you’d rather take me....” Justin hesitated. Brian had implied that he could stay at the loft tonight and he’d told his mother as much. But it had never been stated outright. “Take me somewhere else.”

“Yes,” said Brian. “Get dressed. I’m going to take you somewhere else.”

Justin swallowed. Maybe Brian’s friend was right. Maybe he was only a trick. A one-night stand. “Where, Brian?”

“To see Gus,” said Brian. And then he noticed the puzzled look on Justin’s face. “We’re going over to visit my son.”

 

***

 

Lindsay stared in amazement as Brian walked into the house on Christmas Day with a stranger in tow. A stranger who was holding Brian’s hand!

Yes, the same Brian Kinney who blew off his closest friends when he was in a foul mood – which was often. The same Brian Kinney who only spoke to strangers if he was trying to charm them into bed or into signing with his ad agency. The Brian Kinney who didn’t do boyfriends and hated relationships.

THAT Brian Kinney. Holding hands with a strange blond man.

“This is Justin,” said Brian. Then he pushed past Lindsay and went directly into the living room where Gus was surrounded by his Christmas toys.

“Yes, I’m Justin,” said the young blond man, shaking Lindsay’s hand and then taking off his coat. “I’ve heard so much about you and Mel. And I’m excited to see Gus!”

“Yes,” said Lindsay, smiling her perfect hostess smile. She took the young man’s coat. “Of course. Right in there.”

Mel came out of the kitchen with little Jenny in her arms and the two women exchanged glances. Justin sat down on the carpet with Gus and began asking him questions about Gus’ new Corvette. Gus showed Justin how the doors opened and closed and how the car spun around the smooth wooden floor of the dining room with ease, but was much slower on the oriental carpet in the living room.

“Your daddy told me what a big boy you were, Gus! I love your car,” said Justin.

“Just like Dada’s!” Gus crowed happily.

“Maybe you can come over to the loft tomorrow and bring your new car, Gus,” said Brian. “There are lots of wooden floors there. You and I and Justin can order pizza and watch a DVD.”

“Yeah!” said Gus. “Pizza!”

“Do you like ‘Yellow Submarine,’ Gus?” asked Justin. “That’s one of my favorite movies.”

“I don’t think Gus is familiar with that one, Justin,” said Lindsay. She was watching Brian watch this young man. It was so odd! There was something so different about Brian’s expression. Something different about Brian in general. He was smiling. Really smiling like he meant it. Brian usually smiled at Gus, but it was often a sad half-smile, like in his own head he was somewhere else, remembering something melancholy. Like his own childhood.

There was none of that now. Brian wasn’t sitting somewhere in the past. He was right here.

“We can go to the store and get a copy tomorrow,” said Brian. “Even on a Sunday all the stores will be open early for the hordes who can’t wait to return the horrible clothes their relatives gave them for Christmas!” Brian shuddered.

“That’s true,” said Justin. “My mother always gives me something awful. She doesn’t have a clue!” Justin turned around and put his hand on Brian’s knee. “That reminds me, Brian. We have to get her car and take it back to the house. I don’t want to leave it parked on the street another night.”

Brian nodded. “Then we better get moving or we’ll be late getting to Deb’s. She’ll serve my dick on a plate instead of the main course if I’m late again this year.” He stood up and Gus ran over and hugged him. “So, maybe tomorrow? ‘Yellow Submarine’? Okay, Sonny Boy?”

“Okay, Dada!” Gus replied. “And Justin?” 

“And Justin,” said Brian. “Of course.”

Lindsay went to get Justin’s coat and Mel followed her. “What’s going on, Lindz? Who is that other guy? It sounds like he’s living at the loft. When did that happen?”

“I don’t know, Mel,” Lindsay admitted. “But it feels like a good thing.” 

Mel took the coat back into the living room to give to Justin, while Lindsay motioned Brian into the hallway.

“Who are you and what have you done with Brian Kinney?” Lindsay demanded, only partly joking.

“He’s right here, Lindz,” said Brian. “But....”

“But what, Bri?” asked Lindsay. “Justin seems like a very nice guy, but who is he?”

“He’s....” Brian was at a loss for the language to express this emotion that was so strange to him. So very strange and yet also so sweet. “He’s here, too.” Brian shrugged. “We’re here together. Don’t question it. I’m not questioning it. I’m just letting it happen.”

Lindsay looked Brian up and down. She didn’t want him to shut down by pushing him too hard. He often withdrew whenever anyone pressed him about things he couldn’t articulate. Or things he didn’t want to talk about. Which was practically everything.

Instead, Lindsay smiled softly. “Then let it happen, Brian. For once in your life don’t think too much. Don’t stop and think at all. Just feel. And follow your feelings.”

“I’m trying to, Lindz,” said Brian, seriously. “But this is unknown territory for me. I don’t have a map. I don’t want to get lost.”

“Don’t worry about getting lost, Brian,” said Lindsay. “If there are two of you, then it doesn’t matter if you get lost. Wherever you end up together will be someplace good. Believe me.”

“I’m trying to believe, Lindz. But I haven’t been in that church in a long, long time.” Brian glanced back into the living where Justin was talking to Melanie. “Hey, Justin!” he called. “Move your ass! We have things to do!”

Justin bounced into the hallway. “I’m coming!” He put his arms Brian and kissed his cheek. “Let’s go!”

“Yes,” said Brian. “Let’s go.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Debbie's for Christmas.

Pittsburgh, Christmas Day 2004

 

“Michael,” said Ben. “Are you coming inside? Or are you going to stand out here in the cold like an ass while everyone else is having dessert?”

“I’m not standing outside like an ass!” Michael insisted. He crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. He was fucking freezing, but he wasn’t about to give Ben the satisfaction of knowing he was cold. “It’s stuffy in the living room. I’m getting some fresh air.”

“Yes, fresh air,” said Ben. “That’s why you’re shivering and I can see the air that you’re breathing.” Ben huffed out a large white cloud of vapor in demonstration.

Michael sniffed. “Go back inside, Ben. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Ben put his large hands on Michael’s shoulders and squeezed. “Michael, I know this is about Brian and that new guy, but you have to get over it. You’re making yourself look foolish.” Ben paused. “And you’re making me very unhappy.”

“It has nothing to do with you, Ben!” Michael insisted. “It’s just that... that this whole thing with Brian and that kid has thrown me off balance!”

Ben took a deep breath. “Michael, listen to me. We have a marriage. I know it isn’t legal in this state, but it’s still a real marriage. At least it is to me. And we have a son. We have a life. That means something to me. And I thought it meant something to you, too.”

“It does, Ben!” Michael cried. “It means everything to me!”

“Then stop acting like a pouting, jilted lover just because Brian brought a boyfriend over for Deb’s Christmas dinner!” Ben was trying not to shout, but he was sick of this. He was sick of Michael acting like he could have it both ways. A stable marriage and family with Ben and a fantasy romance with Brian. Because that’s all it was and all Michael and Brian had ever been - a fantasy that existed in Michael’s imagination and nowhere else.

“That guy isn’t Brian’s boyfriend!” Michael snapped. “Brian doesn’t do boyfriends! He’s never had a boyfriend!”

Ben stepped back. He knew that Michael’s last serious relationship, with a doctor who now lived in Oregon, had broken up partly because Michael couldn’t let go of his feelings for his oldest friend. Ben had always tolerated Michael’s meddling in Brian’s life because he was certain that Michael really loved him and that Brian was only an adolescent crush that had never died. But now, seeing Michael boiling with jealousy over the young blond Brian seemed to be besotted with, Ben wasn’t so sure. 

“I don’t know what Justin is to Brian, Michael,” said Ben. “But whatever he is, it has nothing to do with you. Unless you push it.” Ben pressed his lips together tightly. “And then it’s not about them anymore. It’s about us.”

Ben went back into Debbie’s house and sat down next to Carl. The entire gang was sitting in the living room eating cannolis and vanilla ice cream. 

Brian and Justin were on the purple sofa and Justin was trying to spoon ice cream into Brian’s mouth. “You’re too skinny! Have another bite!” Justin insisted. “Only one more!”

“No!” Brian laughed. “I’ll have to spend an extra 45 minutes on the Stairmaster if I eat that!”

“I can think of other ways to work it off!” said Justin, slyly. And he slid the spoon between Brian’s lips.

Ted poked Emmett with his finger and they both raised their eyebrows. They had seen Brian Kinney angry, mocking, sullen, high, drunk, and in fully rampant sexual flight, but they had never seen Brian Kinney playfully bantering with... with whatever Justin was. A boyfriend? Perhaps. Justin looked like a boyfriend, and talked like a boyfriend, and spooned ice cream into Brian’s mouth like a boyfriend, but who knew what that really meant in Brian Kinney Land?

“More ice cream, boys?” asked Debbie, coming in from the kitchen with the carton. She couldn’t stop smiling at the two of them. They were so fucking cute!

“Don’t give him any more, Deb!” Brian groaned. “He’s heavy enough.” The kid was practically sitting in Brian’s lap, but Brian didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the two of them were all over each other.

You could have knocked Deb over with a feather when Brian sauntered in with his arm around this blond-haired kid. Michael had already regaled them all with the story of walking in on Brian doing what Brian does – fucking a trick. How Michael had told the young, blond trick to get lost and then ordered Brian to be at the house at 6:00 sharp for dinner – or else!

Then, at five minutes to 6:00, they walked in together. Brian and his friend, Justin. The blond trick. Only he definitely wasn’t a trick. Brian wouldn’t bring a trick to dinner with the family. Or over to see Gus, which was where they had been earlier. And then to the not-a-trick’s house to drop off his mother’s car and to have a tearful confrontation with her in the driveway while his father was inside watching ‘A Christmas Story,’ completely oblivious to the drama playing outside. Justin had told them all about it in the first five minutes he was in the room, before he had even taken off his coat. The words poured out of him like a torrent and then Justin stopped and grinned at Debbie while Brian put his arms around him, possessively.

“You are such a ray of sunshine on this cold day, honey!” Deb cried. And then she hugged both boys to her more than ample bosom.

That’s when Michael blew a fucking gasket! He bitched and queened out all through dinner until he finally stormed outside to ‘get some air.’ Debbie rolled her eyes thinking about it. Well, Michael would have to get over himself. It was high time Michael and Brian grew up – both of them!

“What do you... um... do, honey?” Emmett asked Justin. He couldn’t get over Brian and this new guy! Justin had dropped the spoon and he and Brian were trading spit like there was no tomorrow. 

Justin looked up. “Me? I’m a senior at Dartmouth.”

“Dartmouth, huh?” said Carl, finishing another cannoli. “That’s a good school. What are you studying?”

“Business,” said Justin. But he made a face when he said it. Dartmouth felt like a whole world away and Justin had changed since he’d been in that world. He could feel the change in himself so strongly. “But I’d like to work in something related to art. Maybe manage a gallery. Something like that.”

“You should talk to Lindsay about that,” said Brian. “She works in an art gallery downtown. She also teaches drawing classes at the Gay and Lesbian Center. The Center is bullshit, of course, but you might want to look into it.”

“I’d like that,” said Justin. “The Business stuff was all my dad’s idea. He’s into doing practical things that make a lot of money, but....” Justin paused and looked around the room. He didn’t know any of these people, Brian’s friends, but he felt comfortable with them. All except Michael, of course, who seemed to have taken a dislike to him. But Michael’s mother had made him feel welcome and they were all really nice to him. They were all very curious about him and Brian, but nice about it, too. All the men, except for Debbie’s husband, seemed to be gay and they didn’t think Justin was some kind of freak, the way his parents’ friends would. “Business isn’t what makes me happy. I’ve always wanted to be an artist.”

“Then that’s what you should do,” said Brian, quietly. “Don’t waste your life doing what other people expect you to do or acting the way other people expect you to act. That makes for a miserable fucking life.” Justin felt Brian’s arms tense. “Don’t make that mistake, Justin.”

“I only have two more terms left and then I’ll graduate,” said Justin. “Then I’ll be free. At least, I’ll be able to live my own life. Or I hope I will.”

“That’s the spirit, Sunshine!” Debbie cackled. “If you want to know about living your own life on your own terms, just ask Brian. He’s the master of doing his own thing!”

“Yeah,” Brian sighed. “Doing my own thing.” He stirred and then stood up. “I’ll be right back. I need a smoke.”

Brian walked out the back door. Michael was still standing there, leaning against the doorframe and shivering violently.

“Christ, Michael, you’re a stubborn fuck. You’ll catch pneumonia out here!” Brian took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. “I’d offer you a smoke, but I know the Professor doesn’t approve of his wife smelling like an ashtray.”

“What are you doing, Brian?” Michael asked. “With that kid?”

“I don’t know, Mikey,” Brian replied. “But give me a chance to figure it out, will you? Everyone is always telling me to grow up and settle down and stop acting like I’m still 25. Maybe it’s time I started doing that.”

“With that fucking kid?” Michael said, his voice rising. “You hardly know him!”

“I know.” Brian blew out a stream of smoke. “But I want to know him. Maybe I’ll fuck it up. I probably will. I don’t have a fucking clue how to... to be with someone. I’ve spend most of my life trying not to feel anything for people. But I can’t keep on the way I’m going. I was almost ready to kill myself last night, Michael. And I’m not kidding.”

Michael turned and stared at Brian. This had always been his greatest fear. That Brian would suddenly reach a dead-end and decide that life was no longer worth the effort. And that there would be no one who cared enough to stop him.

“That’s why I came over this morning!” said Michael. “I was so fucking worried about you, Brian! And you blew me off. Because all you were thinking about was your dick – as usual!”

Brian took the cigarette out of his mouth and looked at it. Turned it around in his hand and then tossed it into the snow. 

“Something happened to me last night, Michael. I don’t know what it was exactly. I wasn’t drunk or stoned enough to be imagining it. But something happened. Something connected with Justin. I... I saw him and he saw me and then... I can’t explain it. I know it sounds stupid, especially coming from me, who doesn’t believe in any kind of mumbo-jumbo or romantic horseshit, but I feel different. Like I have to catch up with something I’ve been chasing without knowing it. Something I’ve been missing for most of my life.” Brian turned and looked into Michael’s huge, sad eyes. “Don’t stand in the way, Michael. Please don’t. Be my friend, yes, but let me do this. I know it won’t last. Nothing in my life ever lasts. But let me have it for as long as it’s here.”

Michael put his arms around Brian and felt the tears flowing down his cheeks as he held onto him. He’d loved Brian since he was 14 years old, but he always knew that Brian didn’t feel the same way about him. Still, it was hard to let go. Especially hard to stand back and let some kid, some stranger, stand next to Brian and kiss him and go home with him. Love him. And maybe more. That was hard. Almost too hard.

“Brian? Michael? Are you guys out here?” Justin pushed open the back door and came out to stand beside them. “Michael, Hunter was asking if you guys were going over to Woody’s for the Christmas Party tonight? Ben said that Hunter could go, too, as long you didn’t stay too late.”

Michael wiped his eyes. It was getting colder and the tears were starting to freeze on his eyelashes. “I better go inside.”

Brian and Justin watched Michael leave and then they stood for a few more minutes. 

“You want to go to that party, too?” asked Brian. “I’m sure Emmett and Theodore are going as well. They’re having Christmas Carol Karaoke and Emmett never misses a chance to embarrass himself with his off-key singing in front of every guy on Liberty Avenue.”

“Not really,” said Justin. “But whatever you want to do is fine with me, Brian.”

A few snowflakes started to fall. One landed on Justin’s nose and Brian brushed it off. “Good,” Brian said. “Let’s go home.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Safe in the Loft.

Pittsburgh, Christmas Day 2004

 

It was quiet in the loft. 

Brian had put a CD on the system, but it had ended a while ago and since then the only sounds had been of bodies touching, mouths meeting, and the big mattress creaking.

The neon light over the bed threw a blue incandescence over the two men as Brian sat on the edge of the bed and Justin rode his cock. Justin bounced up and down, his arms and legs wrapped around Brian. It was chilly in the loft, but they were both sweating with the exertion of the act.

“Brian,” Justin whispered. “I want to come with you on top of me.”

“Okay.” Brian turned Justin carefully, trying not to disengage his cock from Justin’s clenched ass. 

Justin lay back on the bed and lifted his legs up as Brian repositioned himself inside him. This is the way he loved to fuck. With Brian’s face against his. With Brian covering him. Owning him. Occupying him like a conquering army.

They had only been together for twenty-four hours, but it seemed like years. That was the funniest thing. Justin couldn’t understand how you could know another person’s body so completely in that short a time. How you could feel that body was the same as your own. How you could know when to move, when to retreat, when be hard, and when to be gentle. But Justin knew. They both knew. And neither of them could get enough.

Justin pressed his lips against Brian’s shoulder and sucked on his salty skin. This would end soon. Justin knew that it would. It had to. Justin would go back to Dartmouth and that would be that. Justin had been listening to the guys talking at Deb’s dinner. About how Brian fucked a million guys and had a different trick every night. Once Justin was out of his sight, Brian would forget about him. After all, he had his pick of all the hot guys in town.

Don’t come yet, Brian said to himself. Hold it. Hold it. Hold it. Don’t let this end.

But he had to come now. He felt the tightness in his groin and then the release. He gasped and pushed against Justin. Murmured stupid things as he came. Things that didn’t make any sense at all. Or things that made all the sense in the world. He wasn’t sure if Justin could even understand what he was saying.

Then he collapsed on top of Justin. They held each other in the cold silence.

“Brian? Can I ask you something?” Justin said as he watched Brian pull out slowly and then discard the bedraggled condom in a tissue.

“What?” Brian sighed. Justin liked to talk after sex. Actually, he liked to talk all the time. Justin liked to talk and Brian liked to listen.

“Who was the man they were talking about at Debbie’s? The one who died?”

“You mean Vic? He was Michael’s uncle and Deb’s brother. He died almost a year ago,” said Brian.

“From AIDS? Is that what killed him?” Justin thought about all the condoms they had ripped open in the time they’d spent in the loft. Of all the condoms Brian must have ripped open in his life. And how many Justin would also use now that he was really a gay man. 

Brian winced. “Sort of. It was a side-effect of his meds. But Vic was doing very well up until then, especially considering that a few years ago he was on his fucking deathbed.” Brian sat up and reached for his cigarettes. “Why do you ask about Vic?”

“I was curious,” said Justin. “Debbie was talking about how much Vic loved Christmas and about a Christmas party she had for him and how weird it seemed that he wasn’t there.” 

Justin swallowed. He didn’t know anyone who had AIDS, let alone anyone who had died of it. But now he was part of the gay world. He’d been very aware of Brian putting a condom on the first time they’d made love, and then showing Justin how to put it on him and warning him never, ever to fuck without one. Because of AIDS. That was the reason for the condom. To be safe. That would be his reality for the rest of his sexual life.

And Vic had died of it. Justin had never known Vic, but he felt sad for him. “Did you know Vic very well, Brian?”

Brian shrugged. “As long as I’ve known Michael and Deb. Since I was about 13 or 14. Vic didn’t live with Debbie until he got sick, but he was always visiting. He was the first gay man I really knew. He was a real hot guy when he was young. And Vic made the most of it.”

Just like I have, thought Brian. Except that I dodged the bullet. Somehow. Against the odds, probably. Until....

“Justin, I wanted to ask you something, too. Have you been, well, wondering about my scar?” Brian said.

Justin looked into Brian’s face, searching. “Your scar? What do you mean?”

“My scar.” Brian hated to be blunt, but he wanted to know if it bothered Justin. If Justin thought less of him because Brian was less than perfect. Because he’d been sick and might someday get sick again. Like Vic had been. Vic was often in Brian’s mind and in Brian’s dreams. Brian lifted the dark blue sheet and touched the scar on the left side of his groin. “This.”

“Oh,” said Justin. “I thought it was an appendix scar or something. I didn’t really think about it. It’s hardly noticeable, Brian.”

“Bullshit!” Brian huffed. “How could anyone miss it?”

Justin frowned. Why was Brian bringing this up? Because he had mentioned Vic, the guy who had died? 

“I’m not lying to you, Brian. You can barely see the thing!” Justin touched Brian’s hand. Something else was going on in Brian’s head. “What’s wrong? This isn’t about that scar. What’s it really about?”

Brian looked away and Justin felt a shudder go through him. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned Vic. Maybe Brian was also.... But he couldn’t be! Brian would have mentioned it! He wouldn’t have fucked Justin without telling him that extremely important truth.

Brian turned to look at Justin. He was bathed in blue, like an unearthly creature. Maybe Justin wasn’t real after all. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe Brian wasn’t alive after all and Justin was part of that existence beyond life.

“I had testicular cancer. I was diagnosed last winter, right after Vic died. I was sure I was going to die, too. Why should I live when Vic was dead? Everyone loved Vic. He had a boyfriend and he loved life. He’d already been through so much and he was getting better. And then there was me, who didn’t know what the fuck love was and who didn’t give a shit about anyone but myself. It didn’t seem right.”

“Brian, people love you,” Justin said softly. “All those people at Deb’s tonight. And I know you love them. I can tell.” 

“No, not like people loved Vic,” Brian insisted. “I know I’ve been a shit all of my life. And I’ve been afraid of pain and disease and getting old and not being perfect. The doctor told me that I’d have to lose my ball, so I thought about killing myself rather than have the operation and undergo the treatment. That wasn’t the first time I’d thought about suicide, either. But I couldn’t do it. I was too much of a fucking coward. So I had my ball removed.” Brian showed Justin his left testicle. “There’s a prosthetic ball in there. It’s plastic, but it feels like a fucking rock. I guess you can’t see the difference, but I can feel it every minute.”

Justin stared at Brian’s balls. He’d touched them, fondled them, even licked them many times in the past 24 hours and never imagined that there was anything odd about them. He cradled them in his hand. “They look fine to me, Brian. They look perfect to me. They ARE perfect.” And then Justin kissed the left one and he also kissed the faint scar on Brian’s groin.

“I’ve been sick, Justin,” said Brian, watching him gently touch his damaged body. “I want you to know that. I’m not the same as I was. I... I couldn’t even get it up for a long time after the biopsy and then my radiation treatments. I’m not what you think I am, Justin. I used to be the hottest fucking guy in this lousy burg, but I’m not anymore. And I could get... get it again someday. My old man died of cancer a few years back. Then Vic died. Sometimes I feel like I’m next. That I’m doomed.”

“No, Brian!” Justin asserted. “You’re great! You’re exactly the way I imagined you. I don’t give a fuck about some little scar or a plastic ball. I love you!”

Brian smiled sadly. “You do? How do you know you love me? Because I rimmed you and sucked you and fucked your brains out?”

“No! Because I know, that’s all,” Justin said. “I knew you were the one the second I saw you on Liberty Avenue. And then you walked right past me. But I couldn’t let you go. So I called out to you. And you stopped. You came back.”

Brian felt a chill and he pulled the duvet up around the two of them. “You said, ‘Don’t do it.’ What did you mean by that?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Justin. “The words came out and you stopped. That’s all that matters.”

“I was so fucking depressed when I left Babylon,” said Brian. “I was having some of those... those gloomy thoughts. About being sick and about ending it all. That self-pitying bullshit. Seeing you standing under that streetlight, looking so fucking young and beautiful, made me feel worse. It made me see how truly pathetic I am. I still don’t know why I took you home. You aren’t at all my type, you know. I’m not into twinks,” Brian snorted. 

“Well, you are now,” Justin replied matter-of-factly. “I was supposed to be standing there, Brian, under that light. I know I was. I was supposed to see you and you were supposed to take me home. And you were just like I’d imagined you. That’s how I knew it would be all right.”

“You keep saying that you knew who I was,” said Brian. “Did you have dream or a vision or something? About me? That I was your fucking knight in shining armor? Because I’m not, Justin. I’m far from being anyone’s ideal.”

“It was something like that.” Justin closed his eyes. “Many dreams. But I’d always wake up before we made love. So when we finally did make love, I knew it wasn’t a dream anymore. It was real. And you are my ideal, Brian. You may not believe it, but it’s the truth. Plastic ball and all!”

“You’re such a fucking romantic,” Brian sighed. “I don’t know if I can live up to all of those kinds of expectations. What I seem to do best is to live down to people’s expectations of me. So I’m afraid you’re in for a big, fat, fucking disappointment, Justin.”

“I don’t think so, Brian.” Justin leaned over and kissed the side of his face. “You’re the one who is afraid of being a disappointment. I thought you were the Stud of Liberty Avenue? You don’t seem to lack any self-confidence when we’re fucking. Then you seem to know exactly what to do!”

“I can fuck with my eyes closed! And I’ve had plenty of practice since I was 14 years old!” Brian smiled. “But I don’t know how to do all that other stuff. Being a fucking boyfriend and bringing flowers and all that crap. I’ve never known how to do it. It’s such bullshit, isn’t it?”

“That’s not what love is all about, Brian, and you know it,” said Justin. “There aren’t any rules. I’m not the Prom Queen and you aren’t the Big Man on Campus or whatever they show as ‘True Love’ in the movies. I only know what I feel. And what I think you feel.” Justin took a deep breath. “That is – if you really meant what you said just now. When you were coming. When you said, ‘I love you.’”

Brian shook his head. “Guys say a lot of goofy things when they’re shooting inside a prime piece of ass.”

“Is that all I am, Brian? A prime piece of ass?” Justin asked seriously. “Because if that’s all it is, then I’ll be glad for that and I won’t expect anything more from you than a great fuck. But I don’t think that’s all it is. I can’t believe that you say ‘I love you’ to all of your tricks, no matter how prime their asses might be!”

“No,” Brian whispered. “I don’t say it to tricks. And you know you’re more than a prime piece of ass, Justin – although you certainly are that, too. But I don’t know what I feel yet. I only know that I feel something. I don’t want to ignore that feeling because I might never get another chance to feel it. But I need to work on it. I’m not used to all this fucking talking. I’m more into action.”

“I don’t mind you practicing on me, Brian. Feelings or action or whatever you want to try. I’m a willing pupil.” 

“Thank God for that,” said Brian. His dick was getting hard again.

Justin stared up at the rafters above the bed. The glowing neons and the recessed lights that were scattered around the loft cast weird shadows all over the walls and the ceiling. “That shadow looks like an angel. See, Brian? You can see the wings.”

“I don’t know anything about angels.” He buried his face against Justin’s neck. One thing he definitely felt was that he was alive. Absolutely alive. “You’ll have to teach me, Justin. You’re the only one who can do it.”

“I will, Brian,” Justin breathed. “It’ll be my pleasure. Always.”

 

*FIN*


End file.
